


striking the heart

by ShowMeAHero



Series: piece by piece [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/M, Family, Family Fluff, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Light Angst, Lightsabers (Star Wars), M/M, Nonbinary Character, Pregnancy, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, trans nonbinary character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-15 23:33:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28946712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShowMeAHero/pseuds/ShowMeAHero
Summary: “Din!” Luke shouts to them.One of the guardsmen rises up behind Luke like a vision from a nightmare. Din forces themselves forwards, pulling the beskar spear up and over their head. Seeing them move so quickly, Luke realizes something is wrong, and whirls on instinct to face the guardsman behind him.Din’s heart leaps into his throat watching the guardsman level their bowcaster right at Luke’s chest. In a flash of fear, Din becomes certain they’re about to lose Luke and their baby, and it’s such a horrific instant that they scream in rage, pulling their arm back and letting the beskar spear hurtle through the air.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker, Leia Organa/Han Solo
Series: piece by piece [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2111538
Comments: 11
Kudos: 173





	striking the heart

**Author's Note:**

> au brainrot!!

Din can’t bring themselves to leave Luke behind, nor can they let themselves be left behind.

He’s more than capable of taking care of himself. Din, of all people, knows this. They’ve essentially made a career out of being underestimated when it counts. However, this doesn’t make it any easier to be apart from Luke, when it comes to it.

The two of them share a home on Yavin; more than that, they share a bedroom, and they share a bed  _ inside _ that bedroom. In the darkness of early morning, when soft waves of pink and yellow have only just begun to shade the room in light, Din wakes up early enough to thread their bare fingers through Luke’s hair. Bedhead tangles of curling blonde wrap around their knuckles as they stroke. Now and then, they’ll brush Luke’s scalp, lightly scratch him with their nails. Luke sleeps through it, practically radiating contentment as he does.

Even if Luke’s unaware of it, he’s too tapped into the Force not to express it when he’s feeling strongly. Anger and joy both simmer off of him if he feels them too deeply while awake; when he’s asleep, he nearly shivers with Force energy.

Din keeps stroking his hair even as Luke starts to wake up. His shoulders stiffen, then relax; his head tips up where he has it pillowed on Din’s chest.

“Morning,” Luke mumbles, still nearly incoherent with sleep. He shifts, turning onto his side rather than laying on his back. When he’s lined up all along Din, he presses his cheek into their shoulder, yawning until his jaw cracks, sleep-warm and hazy.

Din lifts their hand to catch in the hair at the back of Luke’s head. “Morning.”

Luke doesn’t say anything else just yet. This time, when he shifts, he brings his right hand up, cybernetic fingers sliding over Din’s bare chest and up to cup their jaw. Softly, quietly, he presses a kiss to the underside of Din’s chin.

“Am I late?” Luke asks sleepily, lips still brushing Din’s skin.

“Not yet,” Din says. “It’s still early. The sun is still coming up.”

“Good,” he says, and drags Din’s face down to meet his. Robotic fingers tangle in Din’s hair, holding them in place as Luke kisses them lazily, still half-asleep. He’s waking up as they kiss, Din can feel it. When they separate, Luke blinks his eyes open once, then lets them drift shut again, drowsy.

In this moment, Din sees an opportunity, and they seize it.

“If you’re still tired, you could stay here,” Din suggests. Luke lets his head rest on Din’s shoulder, but he opens his eyes again. This time, he keeps them that way. A little frown comes onto his face, a little furrow between his brows, a frustrated tilt to his face. Din braces themselves for the inevitable response.

“I’m fine to make a bodyguard run,” Luke says. Din’s heard that a few times over the last several days, but it doesn’t reassure them any more now than it had before. “Leia needs a Jedi presence, and I’m our Jedi presence. It’ll take two days.”

“Luke—”

_ “Din,”  _ Luke cuts them off before they can even get started, shoving his hand under himself to sit himself up. “We’ve  _ talked  _ about this, haven’t we?”

Din hesitates. For a moment, they just study Luke’s face. Then, they say, “Yes, but—”

“No  _ but,”  _ Luke insists. “None. No. I’m going. I’m  _ going,  _ Din. What’s the point of being our only Jedi if I’m not even useful when we need one?”

Before Luke, Din tried not to think too much on the Force. It was a concept beyond their grasp — or so they had assumed — and wasn’t worth dwelling on. Now, though, they can’t not think about the Force; it’s half their waking life, because it’s so tangled up in their family and their everyday dealings. Now, Din realizes how powerful the Force really is, but also how meaningful it is to Luke. He sees the Force as a necessary power and himself as one of the only ones capable of wielding that power; he’ll use it no matter what, even at great sacrifice to himself. It’s not just an all-powerful energy; to Luke, it is something  _ more,  _ something innate and natural and consuming, Din understands.

“You’re useful even if you never leave this house again,” Din tells him. Luke rolls his eyes and hoists himself up out of bed. “I mean it.”

“And if I said the same to you, would you believe me?” Luke asks.

“I could go in your place,” Din offers.

“That’s not what I meant,” Luke says, “And you know it.”

“But I could,” Din says again. “Like you said, it’d only be a couple of days.”

Luke eyes them for a long moment from the edge of their bed, sheets tangled around his waist. Then, he says, “No, that’s— No. They need a Jedi and a bodyguard, I can be—”

“Did they request a Jedi bodyguard?” Din asks. “Or a Jedi  _ and  _ a bodyguard?”

Luke stands. “I don’t know.”

“Luke—”

“I don’t need your help,” Luke tells them. The air around him nearly shimmers, like hot air wavering off of blistering sand. He exhales, grabbing his robes off the post at the end of their bed. “I can do this on my own.”

“My point is that you don’t have to,” Din says. Luke’s eyes stay fixed downwards on his hands as he closes his robes, tying them over his waist. When he’s in his regular clothes, made to fit him, he’s obviously pregnant; in his robes, he’s less obvious and more concealed, draped in layers of black that sweep and glide around him when he moves, as fluid as he is. “I can come with you.”

“You should stay here,” Luke says again.

“And do what?” Din asks. “What, would you have me teach the children in your place? Let me do something I can actually do, Luke. I’m going to start going crazy here otherwise.”

Luke finishes the tie on his robes, then hesitates, still staring downwards. He smooths his hands down once, twice over the fabric before he says, “I don’t want to keep you here if you don’t—”

“That’s not what I meant,” Din cuts him off. “I like it here, Luke. I’d like even more if I could do something I’m good at.”

Luke’s mouth twitches. He sighs, but, when he lifts his head to look at Din, finally, he’s smiling. “Has anyone ever told you you’re persistent? Because you really are. You’re stubborn enough to give Leia a run for her money.”

“I’m sorry, are you calling your sister stubborn?” Din asks. They reach out their hand, bare palm upwards; Luke makes his way around their bed to stand at Din’s side and take it, their fingers sliding together before he coasts for Din’s wrist. He circles his hold there instead.

“She is,” Luke argues.

“That’s not what I’m asking,” Din says. “I just wanted to know how big of a hypocrite you were.”

Luke snorts a laugh, rolling his eyes as he moves to tug away from Din, but Din catches his wrist and reels him back in for another kiss. They bite at Luke’s lower lip with light teeth, and Luke grins.

“Leia told me Han is staying here while we’re gone,” Luke says. “He can watch Grogu for us.”

Din enjoys hearing Luke say things like  _ we _ and  _ us. _ It’s a specific thrill they can’t quite put words to, but love all the same.

“Are you sure you want to come?” Luke asks, and Din nods, catching Luke’s hand in theirs again so they can kiss his bare palm.

“Of course I do,” Din tells him.

* * *

Luke and Leia are meant to be leaving early in one of the gunships their settlement has converted into a tiny passenger ship. When they travel, Din doesn’t carry much, so it takes almost no time at all for them to gather their belongings for the trip. Once they’re dressed in their armor and they’ve eaten breakfast with Luke and Grogu, there’s nothing more for them to do but wait for Luke.

He dresses himself three times before he decides his clothes fit well enough to look properly intimidating. His frustration shakes off of him in waves before he finds clothes he’s comfortable in. Din doesn’t know what to say, and so says nothing; in their lap, Grogu gnaws on a frog leg, content.

Grogu is similarly more than happy to go to Han when they drop him off. Han, for his part, seems bewildered, but he’s handled Grogu before.

“He better be in one piece when I get back,” Din threatens Han, for good measure. They let Grogu press a kiss to the side of their helmet before Han takes him.

“He’ll be fine,” Han says. “I’m more worried the kid’s gonna take a bite out of  _ me.” _

“That’ll train you for our own kid,” Leia tells him, scooping up her own bag from the floor. Din takes it from her without asking, slinging it over their shoulder with their own bag and Luke’s. “Thanks, Din.”

“No problem,” they say.

“If any kid’s taking a bite out of anybody, it’ll be Luke’s,” Han comments.

_ “Hey,”  _ Luke growls. He flings an overstuffed cushion off of their wooden couch at Han’s head with the Force, but Han bats it away easily enough. “My kid’s not gonna  _ bite  _ you.”

“Can we go, or are the two of you busy? Because I can just go,” Leia says to them. Din’s glad for their helmet, as usual. It allows them the freedom to not need to school their expression, to laugh when someone makes them laugh, to smile when Leia says something that makes Luke blush like that, all righteous indignation.

“She has a point,” Din says. “We can do this without you, if you wanted to stay—”

“Oh, no, you don’t,” Luke replies. The cushion drops out of his control as he loses his focus on it. “I’m going. Leia, tell them.”

“Wouldn’t it just be easier if we ran away together?” Leia asks Din. They smile inside their helmet again.

“You have a point,” Din says.

“Watch it, Mando,” Han says indignantly. “She talks a big game, but she’s as high maintenance as they come. Don’t let her fool you.”

“What he means is he loves me,” Leia tells Din. She turns back to Han and asks, “Are you finished? Because I’m going to be gone for a couple of days, and I thought you might miss me.”

“You know I will,” Han says. He sidles up close to her side, cupping her face in one hand, catching her hip in the other. She rolls her eyes like she doesn’t love it, but Din has seen them do this countless times, now. They’re not sure when this became familiar; in a startling moment, they realize these people are their family, functionally. More than comrades, Din’s child will be related to theirs by blood; they haven’t had such an inherent bond in so long.

“Can’t you do this before I come to get you?” Luke complains. Leia separates from Han, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand as she pries him off of her.

“Take good care of the kid,” Din warns Han one last time. Grogu’s mostly asleep in the crook of Han’s arm, but Din cups his face in their gloved hand for a moment still all the same before leaving.

“He’ll be  _ fine,”  _ Han says. “Take good care of my wife.”

Din inclines their head to Han before escorting Luke and Leia both from her home. Luke had requested that he be allowed to fly them, and Din acquiesced. His droid would be accompanying them, as always. Din trusted the thing as much as any droid — not much, but maybe slightly more for the faith Luke placed in the machine.

“Artoo, come on,” Luke calls across the hangar. He whistles, and Din’s skin prickles all over, flushed instantly. They lower their head and follow directly behind Leia to the passenger ship they’re borrowing. The thing has paint rusting off its hull that reads  _ Daydream Catcher. _

“Fun name,” Din comments.

“They wouldn’t let me change it,” Leia says. “I was hoping for something more intimidating.”

“Aw, but this is nice,” Luke comments, practically jogging up the ramp into the ship, R2-D2 sliding right along behind him. Din steps out of the thing’s way, watching it cautiously as it shadows Luke’s footsteps into the ship. “This isn’t some fighter ship.”

“Not  _ anymore,”  _ Leia says. “It  _ was  _ a gunship.”

“And  _ someone  _ thought this was a good name for it,” Luke reminds her. He bypasses the equipment and engines he’d spent the last couple of days checking over to head straight for the cockpit. Wherever Luke walks, he brings the swirl of black fabric with him. It’s not until he’s seated in the pilot’s seat in the cockpit that he lowers his hood.

For a moment, Luke just surveys the panels in front of him. He tugs his gloves off to free his fingers, flesh and robotic, and runs his bare hands over the panels. His fingertips trail up one side of a long switchboard before he flips the last little lever. The entire cockpit lights up, glowing a strikingly bright blue. Luke laughs, dimming the lights. They still glow off the dirty blond of his hair, disheveled by his hood.

“Look at that,” Luke comments admiringly.

“Bright,” Din agrees.

“You said it,” he replies.

“What are we, a cantina band?” Leia asks, ducking into the cockpit. “Is this our tour ship? What’s with the lights?”

“I thought I’d throw us a party,” Luke comments backwards to her. “Take a seat, Leia, I don’t want you to fall over.”

“What about me?” Din asks. Luke tilts his head back to look Din over.

“I think you’re built sturdier,” Luke says. Leia flicks him on the ear before taking the seat behind him, leaving the co-pilot’s seat available for Din. After a moment’s hesitation, they take it. “Now, Leia, brief us again. What’re we doing?”

Din leans back in their seat, watching Luke take control of the ship. The two half-moon handles that make up the ship’s wheel curve easily into Luke’s palms; the entire ship nearly groans under his touch, coming to life with a spectacular roar of its engines. Luke laughs at the strength of the noise before it dims to a duller whir, low enough that Din can still hear the rush of air past the ship as Luke rolls the thing out and eases it into the sky. Din would rather fly, if given a chance, but Luke doesn’t get the chance as often. Besides, Din wasn’t even meant to be here until the last moment, anyways.

“We’re trying to be diplomats for once,” Leia tells them both. Din glances at her, for a moment, but only for a moment. Their attention gets dragged away by Luke again almost instantly, by the way he grins as he guides the ship through space. He’s a captivating sight. Knowing he’s having their child just makes their blood thrum all the more, heart pounding every time they think of them again.

“So, what do you need us to do?” Luke asks.

_ “Nothing,”  _ Leia says. “I  _ cannot  _ stress that enough, Luke, I want you to do  _ nothing.  _ You and Din are going to stand behind me, you’re going to be imposing with your armor and your lightsaber, and you’re going to be  _ completely silent. _ Do you hear me?”

“Yeah, yeah, I hear you,” Luke grumbles. “That’s no fun, though, you know.”

“This isn’t supposed to be  _ fun,”  _ Leia replies. He rolls his eyes as he tosses his head back to glare at her. “I know, I wish it was more fun, too. But you and I aren’t allowed to have fun for a little while.”

“Speak for yourself,” Luke says. The haughty expression on his face that was making Din’s chest tight disappears in favor of giving Din a delighted smile instead. This just makes his skin prickle anew, flush with Luke’s attention. “Din and I have plenty of fun, don’t we?”

“Eyes forward,” Leia orders him. Laughing, Luke turns his attention back through the windscreen again, focused on the infinite lengths of space in front of them. Din just sits there, still vibrating, practically thrumming with energy.

“I’m just saying,” Luke replies.

“I know you are,” Leia says. “You say all sorts of ridiculous things. But like I said, Luke, unless this thing goes sideways, I don’t even want to see your lightsaber blade, got it? This is a  _ diplomatic trip.  _ It will take  _ two days,  _ at most.”

“Got it,” Luke says.

“Understood,” Din replies.

* * *

The second that Din sees Luke’s light blade slide out, casting Luke’s face and black robes in a green glow, they pull the Darksaber off their own belt.

Leia had seemed relatively certain that this was going to be a straightforward diplomatic mission, but talks dissolved quickly. It was apparent to all three of them quickly that the people of the planet Leia had brought them to — Maranjo, not that they’ve gotten to talk to any of them — had no interest in supporting the rebels. They were curious more than anything, and became frustrated by Leia’s insistence of actually adhering to the reason for their visit.

During an argument between Leia and two of the Maranjo’s politicians, one of their guardsmen had lifted their bowcaster. Din had caught it in the same moment Luke had, evidently.

The guardsman fires the bowcaster towards Leia despite the appearance of the two lightsabers. Luke is much faster than the laser the bowcaster blasts off, diverting the shot from his sister and sending it through the roof. A small hole is left behind, sending a bolt of sunlight blistering through the hall they’re in. The whole place is made of wood, the roof thatched with straw. The bowcaster’s hole in the roof starts to simmer red at the edges before the roof sparks with a small flame.

“Oh, no,” Luke murmurs. Din watches the flame lick over the straw and catch quickly. The entire roof goes up so fast Din almost misses it, but they have more pressing concerns at the moment.

They throw themselves forwards to the guardsmen. They’ve focused on Luke more than Leia, seeing him holding his lightsaber, but Din’s their bodyguard. It’s their job to guard their bodies, and so, without thinking, Din shouts,  _ “Hey!”  _ at the guardsmen.

A few of them turn towards them. Din uses the Darksaber to strike down the one closest to them. It cuts straight through their armor; even with all the training Luke has been giving them with the thing, they’re still unused to the absolute power of the Darksaber.

“Here!” Luke calls. Din sheathes the Darksaber and tosses the hilt to Luke. Instead, they pull their beskar spear off its mount of their back and snap that out into their hands. They duck and slide to sweep the guardsmen out at the backs of their knees, knocking them to their backs on the ground. In Din’s peripherals, they see the glowing whirls of emerald-green and obsidian-black as Luke duel-wields their lightsabers.

Din breaks away to survey the flames above them. Pieces of straw are burning away, sending beams crackling apart and falling to the floor below them. Leia has backed herself into a corner, using the blaster she keeps on her belt to keep guardsmen off of herself. The beams above her are giving, so Din sprints to yank her out of the way. Just in the last moment, the beams collapse, nearly catching her hair and spine on the way; Din yanks them backwards, sending them rolling in a heap across the ground, sprawling in the ash and straw.

“Are you okay?” Din demands over the cacophony of weapons discharging and flames surging around them.

“Yes,” Leia shouts back. Din staggers up to their feet; one of their legs is aching in their thigh, but they push it out of their mind to help Leia stand instead. She has an easier time of it than they do, but Din remembers, in that moment, that she’s pregnant, and they’ve gone sprawling across the ground. She can’t be in here anymore.

“You have to get out,” Din orders her.

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Leia replies. She turns to find the exit, but Din doesn’t waste time, hauling her up by the waist and running for the crackling walls. Rather than finding a door, Din just kicks a hole through the wooden walls, splintering the panels in a million different directions. They protect Leia’s face with their gloves so her face isn’t scratched as they haul her through the hole to the green grass outside. Once she’s far from the black plumes of smoke, Din leaves her there without another word, rushing back inside, searching out Luke.

The flames and smoke have thickened so much that, without their helmet, Din might not be able to see anything. As it is, it would be nearly impossible to find Luke if Din couldn’t follow the green-black glows cutting through the smoke. Din forces through the carnage, beskar spear at the ready once again.

Someone comes out of the smoke at Din’s left, and they knock them out without even needing to look twice. From their other side, someone else lets off a blast from their bowcaster, and Din hears it an instant before they feel it rush through their shoulder. It’s there and gone, but it hurts so badly that Din staggers for a moment, catching themselves against a collapsing wall. Breathing hard, they force themselves forwards towards the lightsabers still until they get to Luke.

“Din!” Luke shouts to them.

One of the guardsmen rises up behind Luke like a vision from a nightmare. Din forces themselves forwards, pulling the beskar spear up and over their head. Seeing them move so quickly, Luke realizes something is wrong, and whirls on instinct to face the guardsman behind him.

Din’s heart leaps into his throat watching the guardsman level their bowcaster right at Luke’s chest. In a flash of fear, Din becomes certain they’re about to lose Luke and their baby, and it’s such a horrific instant that they scream in rage, pulling their arm back and letting the beskar spear hurtle through the air. The tip of it drives directly through the throat of the guardsman, sending them choking backwards, blood spattering Luke’s face as they go.

Luke’s breathing hard when Din gets to him. There’s so much blood they can’t tell what’s Luke’s, so they just do with him what they did with Leia, hauling him through the splintered walls. Beams and straw and wood collapse everywhere around them, flames licking up to rise where guardsmen fell previously. Din’s head rushes, for a moment, before they clear it and focus.

Another beam falls, and Din jerks Luke forwards, hunching over him to protect him from the brunt of it. It hits their armored shoulder and collides with Luke’s legs as it slides; Luke cries out in pain, and Din hauls him up into his arms without a second thought. Their shoulder screams in pain, the blaster wound throbbing horribly, but they force themselves forwards, step by step. They keep going until they’re outside the hall and setting Luke down as gently as they can manage in the grass next to Leia. She clutches her brother’s face, checking his eyes, smearing blood all over his skin in search of a wound.

“Din’s hurt,” Luke manages. He coughs, a huge hacking sound thick with smoke. Without thinking, Din presses the release lock on their helmet and tugs it off. They set it on Luke’s head instead, allowing it to filter his air for him, easing the smoke from his lungs.

Leia, for her part, doesn’t look at Din’s face. She tears off one of her own robes instead, singed from the flames, and offers it to Din to cover their face with. They do it, wordless, before standing.

“We should go,” Din tells them.

“If you’re hurt, we should patch you up,” Leia says. Din’s mind still hasn’t caught up with what just happened. They remember Luke falling inside, and they turn to check on him again, helping him onto his back in the grass so they can examine his legs.

“He’s burned his legs,” Din tells her.

“You’ve got a hole in your shoulder,” Leia points out. “Maybe we should—”

“We’ll go back to the ship,” Luke says, voice modulated. He lifts his hands to tug the helmet off, giving it back to Din. He coughs again, to clear his chest, but his breathing sounds infinitely easier. “I’ll fly us home. Leia, you can patch Din up in the ship.”

“What ab—”

“Hey!” someone calls behind them. Din grabs their helmet from Luke’s hands and quickly replaces it on their head. They haul Luke up to his feet; he staggers, so Din grabs his arms and pulls him up onto their back. Luke still holds his lightsabers and Din keeps their beskar spear in hand as Leia leads them, blaster at the ready, at a run back to the  _ Daydream Catcher. _

“What happened?” Luke demands the moment they’re onboard the ship. Din sets Luke on his feet and slams the panel beside the ramp to pull the last bit back up to the ship. Already, the ship begins to rumble; inside, Din can hear Luke and Leia arguing with one another. R2-D2 comes from the charging station at the back of the ship, beeping rapidly. Whatever it asks is lost on Din, who just follows it to the cockpit.

_ “—supposed  _ to be that way,” Leia was snapping at Luke when Din found them. “It was  _ meant  _ to be two days and—”

“Well, it  _ wasn’t,”  _ Luke replies sharply. “We just walked right into a trap! What would we have done if—”

“Enough,” Din cuts them off. They fall to their knees beside Luke in his pilot’s chair, catching his face in their gloved hands. “Are you hurt?”

Luke’s face softens instantly. His blonde hair falls into his face, some of it singed; his face is grimy with blood and ash and sweat, smeared all over his skin. In all the mess, the blue of his eyes is a shock.

“I’ll be fine,” Luke tells him.

“The baby—”

“Is fine,” Luke assures them. “I can feel them, remember?” Din’s heart is racing faster than they can even feel, hands shaking as they drag them down from Luke’s face to his middle. They bury their helmeted face in his lap, shaking. Luke’s fingers find the back of their neck, thumb rubbing a soothing circle into the skin there. “It’s okay. You’re going to be okay.”

“I’m not worried about me,” Din says. “I’m worried about  _ you.” _

“Funny,” Luke replies, “I was worried about you.”

“Can we worry about getting this ship off the ground, please?” Leia asks. “We can worry about each other later.”

Din barely moves, but Luke takes up the ship’s controls and brings them into the sky without another beat of hesitation. The  _ Daydream Catcher  _ flies easily out of the atmosphere of Maranjo, leaving their mess behind.

“What  _ happened?”  _ Din demands, using the back of Luke’s chair as leverage to stand. It’s only for a moment before they collapse backwards in the co-pilot’s chair once again. Leia comes to their side in an instant, the ship’s hefty first aid kit in her hands.

“It was just another trap,” Leia tells them.

“This has happened before,” Luke says. “People want to capture a Jedi, or they want to sell top Rebels to the highest bidder.”

“Can’t get much higher up than me and Luke,” Leia points out. “It happens.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Luke agrees.

“This has happened  _ before?”  _ Din asks, incredulous. Leia looks over her shoulder at Luke, who bits his lip and scrunches his face in that endearing way he has that makes Din boil over with frustration. He’s trying not to say something.  _ “Luke.” _

“This is what  _ happens,”  _ Luke points out. Leia removes bacta patches from the kit and starts peeling the packaging off the adhesives.

“Endangering your lives for  _ nothing _ can’t be something that happens all the time,” Din all but growls. They make themselves pull it back, taking a breath before they continue. “You need a stronger security detail.”

“We can’t waste the manpower,” Leia says.

“It’s not a waste,” Din says firmly. “You’re the leaders of the Rebel cause, no matter what you say.”

“The war is—” Leia starts.

“It’s  _ not,” _ Luke says.

“When something happens,” Din argues over them, “and something  _ will _ happen, they’re going to need the two of you.”

_ I’m going to need you,  _ they don’t say. But Luke turns back in his pilot’s chair anyways and looks at Din like that’s exactly what they said.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Luke tells them.

“Then prove it,” Din replies. “Luke, when I thought— When I thought something was going to happen to you, I felt as if— as if I was going to  _ die. _ Do you understand me? Luke, it  _ hurt.” _

“I understand,” Luke says softly. He keeps one hand on the controls; the other, he reaches backwards with. While Leia pulls Din’s armor and clothes apart to apply the bacta patches to their front and back, Luke grips Din’s knee in his hand and squeezes tight, grounds them.

“I’m going to put bacta patches on you myself when she’s done,” Din informs him. “Take your pants off and get ready.”

“I’m sure you’ve heard that one before,” Leia comments. Luke snorts a laugh, turning back to the control panels to set in their coordinates and steer the ship to auto-course flying.

“I’m not the only one who—”

“Alright,  _ alright,  _ I don’t see this ending happily,” Leia interrupts him. Luke tugs his black pants off as instructed, tossing them and his robes aside to leave himself in just his loose black top and black underwear. The backs of his knees and thighs are burned red and blistered in more than a few places. Just the sight of the injuries is enough to dim any appeal that Luke taking his clothes off had in the first place.

In the tiny space of the cockpit, Leia tends to Din’s shoulder and Din tends to Luke’s legs. The ship flies them back home with barely a hitch.

Leia, once Din’s shoulder is patched, stands and brushes ash and grass off of herself. “I’m going to wash my hands and my face as best I can. Don’t crash the ship.”

“We’ll see,” Luke replies, eyes still down on Din’s hands smoothing the last patch over the back of his thigh. Her steps echo through the ship until she’s far away, R2-D2 following after her. There’s just silence, for a moment. Din keeps their focus on Luke’s legs.

“I’m sorry,” Din tells him, breaking the quiet.

“You’re  _ sorry?”  _ Luke asks. “For  _ what?” _

“I should’ve been paying closer attention,” Din says. “I should’ve—”

“What, you should’ve known the future?” Luke demands. Spots of pink color flush high on his cheeks. Din’s mind is still racing, panic seeping in as the realization that Luke was truly deeply in danger — that all three of them were, that their  _ baby  _ was — settles into their bones. Their hands are shaking when Luke grabs them in his. “I’m the one who’s basically telepathic. If anyone should’ve known, it should’ve been me.”

“But you—”

“It’s not your fault,” Luke tells them firmly. “You can’t know everything. You can’t  _ do  _ everything.”

“I can’t lose you,” Din adds. Luke tips his head forward until his forehead collides with a soft  _ thwump  _ against Din’s helmet, right above Din’s own forehead.

“You’re not going to,” Luke tells them. “We’re both here, aren’t we?”

“We are,” Din agrees. Luke’s hand slides over their uninjured shoulder, down their arm. He catches their hand and tangles their fingers with his. Between them, Din frees their other hand to slide over Luke’s belly, gliding over the swell of it, imagining the thrum of life from their child inside.

“It’s okay,” Luke assures him. “I saw you get hit, too, and I thought— I don’t know what I thought. It really freaked me out.”

“I’m sorry,” Din says.

“What’re you sorry for?” Luke asks. “I’m the one with the issue. I just— I’ve lost—” Luke exhales shakily, then says, “I lost  _ everyone.  _ I don’t want to lose you, too.”

Din pulls their hands from Luke just so they can tug their helmet off. The light of space seems crisper when Din sees it with their own eyes; similarly, Luke’s eyes seem brighter, his face seems fresher, everything about him seems lighter. Every day, they think, they get closer and closer to a life without the necessity of the helmet.

“You are my family,” Din tells him. Luke’s face goes pink again; he ducks his head down, but Din pulls it back up. “No, listen to me. You are my  _ only  _ family. I will not let  _ anything  _ happen to you. Do you understand me?”

“I do,” Luke says softly. He dips his head in to kiss Din’s cheek, the corner of their mouth. That close, he says, “I love you even more.”

Din feels their own face flush hot. “I—”

Luke presses in close, warmed robotic fingers tracing over Din’s bare shoulder. It’s only when they catch on the edge of a bacta patch and Din flinches automatically, regretfully, that they separate.

“Sorry,” Luke says.

“Don’t be,” Din replies, “I’m not,” and Luke grins at them.

“I think I should stay planetside for a while longer,” he says unexpectedly. Din cups his face in their hand. “I don’t want to, but— I should be staying with the school anyways. And you’re right, Leia and I are no good to anybody if we’re dead.”

“And,” Din prompts him.

“And,” Luke continues, “I really don’t want anything to happen to our baby, Din. There’s really not that much time left before they’re here, and I— I’m already terrified about the idea of them being separated from me. I can’t protect them if they’re not  _ with  _ me.”

“I’ll keep you safe,” Din promises. “Both of you. All of you. I swear.”

“And I’ll keep you safe,” Luke says. He takes Din’s hand in his and asks, “Deal?”

Din shakes his hand, and lets Luke lean in to seal their agreement with a kiss. When he pulls away, Din agrees, “Deal.”

**Author's Note:**

> You can (and should!) comment to chat with me, or talk with me about this fic on Twitter at [@nicole__mello](https://twitter.com/nicole__mello) and/or on Tumblr at [andillwriteyouatragedy](http://andillwriteyouatragedy.tumblr.com/).


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